


From Underneath the Table-Cloth

by anna_sun



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Blow Jobs, Crack, Fluff and Smut, Humor, M/M, Modern AU, Post-Canon, Public Blow Jobs, Public Hand Jobs, Semi-Public Sex, Teasing, Weddings, kind of?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-30
Updated: 2017-09-30
Packaged: 2019-01-01 03:15:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12147447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anna_sun/pseuds/anna_sun
Summary: "No," the word escaped harshly through gritted teeth, "Not here."Flint said this yet his thumb caressed soft patterns onto the side of Silver’s palm, and he didn’t make one single move to leave. He in fact did absolutely nothing to support his words but look at him with what Silver could only guess was that same animalistic thing inside him, the one that growled and purred whenever they stood near each other."Why not? Nobody’s paying us any mind. It would befun."//AKA how Flint would handle a wedding reception, were he to be teased from under the table-cloth.





	From Underneath the Table-Cloth

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [How to Tie Your Sea Cook Up In Knots](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12104532) by [Magnetism_bind](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magnetism_bind/pseuds/Magnetism_bind). 



> The original idea for this was a tea-party, but I changed it, for the purpose of credibility (I just couldn't figure out how Silver could make Flint come at a fucking tea-party and have it be _anywhere_ near subtle. I needed a loud event, with a bunch of people, so, yep. Wedding!) 
> 
> Hope you enjoy, and that I did the idea justice!

There was something almost animalistic that awakened within Silver whenever he so much as glanced at Flint that night. He could hardly be blamed for it – the suit, an attire Flint didn’t wear nearly often enough, fit him all too well to be fair. The cuffs made his pale wrists look almost delicate, even from afar, with his fingers carefully wrapped around the thin end of a wine glass, and when he approached the recipient to his lips and took a sip of the dark liquid, Silver found himself feeling parched.

He proceeded to take in the full length of Flint’s body, well past-caring about any sense of decency at this point, from the thin cravat tied around his collar to the pointy end of his shoes. Between all that – the pants. God, those _pants_. There was a slight tilt in Flint’s stance, and so the fabric of the clothing hugged his every curve perfectly, from his hips to his ass and his thighs, as he talked to Eleanor’s grand-father about matters probably so boring Silver thought himself glad to be too far away to hear.

The sight was astounding, and the main reason why, amongst all the wedding festivities, Silver could be found sitting alone at their assigned table, sipping down his glass of whiskey. He couldn’t stand, nor dance, or do anything but stare – he was getting hard in his own briefs just from _looking_ at Flint.

When his eyes idly glanced up again, seeking the sight of that fiery hair tied in a neat bun above the nape of one’s beautiful neck, he was instead met with the intensity of Flint’s gaze. Mr. Guthrie was now busy talking with some other old man who had joined their conversation, and so Flint smiled at him. Innocently enough, at first, but the more their eyes contact lasted, the more the smile grew devilish.

He downed the remaining of his wine, excused himself to the men, and walked his way towards their table – towards him.

"Are you alright?" Flint asked as he placed his empty glass onto the table. He then sat right next to him, and a draft of his cologne found its way to Silver’s nose. He smelled divine. "You seem distracted."

"You’re a shit," Silver laughed, rather insincerely. "You know damn well what’s distracting me."

"Oh?" Flint raised an intrigued eyebrow. "What might that be?"

Flint just wanted him to say it, the egocentric bastard, so Silver did that, and more. He rested his palm flat against Flint’s thigh, before he answered, almost a growl, "You."

A huff of breath escaped from Flint’s nose, and Silver couldn’t suppress the grin that tore at his lips, as he grabbed the meat of Flint’s thigh there, digging his fingers deep into it. He knew the pain sent small waves of pleasure running inside Flint’s veins, like electricity, as he hissed, and held on to Silver’s hand so suddenly and with a grip so strong Silver had to close his eyes for a second there.

"No," the word escaped harshly through gritted teeth, "Not here."

Flint said this yet his thumb caressed soft patterns onto the side of Silver’s palm, and he didn’t make one single move to leave. He in fact did absolutely nothing to support his words but look at him with what Silver could only guess was that same animalistic _thing_ inside him, the one that growled and purred whenever they stood near each other.

"Why not? Nobody’s paying us any mind. It would be _fun_."

As he said the words Silver’s hand sneaked its way closer to Flint’s crotch, and with itchy fingertips he found Flint’s semi-hardness easily enough, started delicately rubbing it through the fabric.

"Stop pretending you don’t want this. Right here, right now." Silver slid closer to the edge of his own chair, hot air of his heavy breathing hitting the skin of Flint’s neck and making goosebumps blossom all across it. "I know I do."

"It’s inappropriate."

Quite frankly, Silver had stopped giving a fuck about what was deemed "appropriate" in society a long time ago. Most probably around the time he started having sex, actually.

"Silver," Flint tried to warn when his hand went back to slowly rubbing his thigh, but the toned muscle flexing under his touch felt more like a reward. " _John_."

Silver’s intents only grew more deliberate, then. He finally grabbed Flint’s crotch with a whole hand, putting more pressure into the heel of his palm, found the outline of his cock. He felt a sinking, comfortable weight of arousal settle low in his belly, when Flint could do nothing but groan, and his grip on the back of Silver’s hand slowly lost its ardour until he was merely caressing his forearm.

"Yeah, that’s it," Silver whispered, voice on the verge of obscene, encouraging him to let go. "Feels good, doesn’t it? And with all those people around. I bet it only makes you want it more."

Flint laughed, half-heartedly.

"You’re the one who was eye-fucking me from across an entire ballroom."

"You came over and sat here. Were you really expecting me to keep my hands to myself? With you looking like _that_?"

With one hand clasped on the arm of his chair, Flint canted his hips ever so slightly then, seeking more friction, and the pleasure Silver was making sure to withhold. He absolutely adored seeing Flint grow desperate for it like this, for him. Loved seeing when the restraints Flint imposed on himself snapped, when he truly decided to let go, and do as he pleased. There was something so attractive about it, about a man of Flint’s stature, choosing to be with him in ways so filthy Silver would blush if ever asked about it.

"Silver," Flint’s eyes were pleading, as he rested both forearms on the surface of the table, fingers laced, head dropped and tilted towards Silver’s nonchalant expression. "For the love of God."

With one skillful hand, Silver unbuckled Flint’s belt, and dragged down the zipper at a pace he knew to be agonizingly slow. When he gazed down, after taking another sip of his drink, he saw Flint’s member twitch in his briefs, growing harder and bigger by the second.

"You already look so wrecked," Silver made himself sound more surprised than he actually was. "You think I’m the one teasing you? Looking at you like this, without being able to have you. That’s absolute _fucking_ torture."

Silver knew what his voice did to Flint, and how cursing usually only aggravated that effect. And it worked, of course it worked, because Flint only groaned as he shifted in his seat, and plead for him to continue.

"What? With all those people around?" Silver mocked, echoing his earlier words. "Eleanor’s family, the Governor’s… aren’t you afraid they’ll catch on to what’s happening here?"

"Christ, I don’t care, I don’t care – just – do something, _anything_ other than – "

Silver grinned like a madman, and without further ado, swiftly slid down his chair and onto his knees, draping the long tablecloth over his head and finding a place in the darkness, between Flint’s thighs. He pushed them further apart, and grabbed onto the legs of Flint’s chair, using all his strength to drag him as far as he’d go, humming once the tip of his nose found its righteous place, nibbling at Flint’s cock.

"Take my glass and drink, as to not arise suspicions.’’ Silver ordered. "Has anybody seen?"

 Flint’s stomach clenched as he uttered out a laugh.

"What? Noticed you crawl underneath the table like a whore? No – I don’t think so. They’re all – " Silver had opened his mouth wide at the sound of "whore", and was now, with the slightest pressure, dragging his teeth across Flint’s length, still through the clothing. " _Fuck_ , they’re all busy dancing."

The answer pleased him, and so Silver raised his head back as best he could, before he finally, with a newfound delicateness, took Flint’s hard cock out of the confinements of his pants. Even in the dark, he could see that the tip was glistening, that he was already wet, angry red and aching, and his mouth watered at the sight. He hadn’t had him like this in weeks, which was far too goddamn long a fast, in his honest opinion.

He dragged the foreskin down, before darting his tongue out to gather the wetness there, letting it connect with the own roof of his mouth afterwards. He showed his appreciation for the taste with a growl from deep within his chest, and then went back for more, and more, slow kitten-like licks, until he took the head between his lips and rolled it with his tongue. He then paid special attention to the bundle of nerves underneath it, dragging his tongue back and forth across it until he felt the table shake with a fist connecting on the surface of it.

Flint’s hips raised on their own accord then, and Silver allowed him to get deeper an inch or two, before he stopped him by pressing his forearm down, right below Flint’s navel. Control was his again, and he bobbed his head back, accidentally knocking it on the table above him, before he instantly went back down, taking Flint as far as he’d go. He did it again, and again, more cautiously these times, until Flint’s body grew incredibly tense, and Silver found himself confused as to how he could be so close _already_. That is, until the true reason for such tension made itself more apparent to him.

"Are you not enjoying your evening?" Someone – Eleanor – asked from above. Silver’s hand grabbed the base of Flint’s cock, but made no further move. "Here I am getting _married_ and here you are, brooding in a corner. I guess it stays true to your nature."

Flint laughed, most likely out of panic.

"Congratulations on you both, again. I really am happy for you."

Silver was impressed. Flint’s cock was still hard and pulsing in his hand yet his voice didn’t falter one bit. With this in mind, he figured the only logical thing to do next was to continue. Otherwise this would never end and the soreness in his back and legs from the uncomfortable, cramped space would all be for absolutely nothing.

We couldn’t have that, now, could we? And not to mention, wasn’t this precisely the fun of it?

He took Flint back in his mouth again without much care and heard him gasp, though Eleanor didn’t seem to notice, since she went on talking about – God, about some presents she received. At least she wasn’t talking about Rogers.

Soon enough, he heard her walk closer to him, and the smack of lips on cheeks, before she said, "Do try to have some fun, yes? And please tell Silver, if you see him, that I’d like to speak with him."

"Will do. Yes – Goodbye!"

Silver knew she was as sure as gone when Flint’s hand appeared underneath the table, grabbed a handful of hair at the back of his head, and forced him close. He gagged, only a little, mostly out of surprise and unpreparedness, but the music of the band and the rattle of drunk people celebrating around them downed it out.

He did hope that Flint, at least, heard; hoped it was the reason for the sudden twitch in his member.

"You’re unbelievable. You just can’t stop, can’t you?"

The only answer Silver could muster was a groan, and Flint was speaking in-between harsh breaths, using the grip he had on Silver’s head to fuck himself down his throat.

"You love this too much. It’s – it’s embarrassing, really – _oh_ , fuck. Yeah, just like that." Silver was swallowing around him, sucking on the head whenever he could, creating a bloody mess of spit down his chin and onto Flint’s pants. His movements were growing frantic, his grasp tightening, and now, _now_ he was close.

Silver knew, so he grabbed Flint’s thighs with two full hands, dug his fingers deep, and locked himself in position, his nose nuzzled in Flint’s pubic hair and the head of his cock hitting the back of his throat hard as he swallowed around it, finally feeling it pulse and gush out its release. He lost himself in it for the flash of a second there, and knew nothing, for that moment, but Flint’s touch, Flint’s scent, Flint’s heat.

When all was said and done, Silver found himself gasping for breath, and took a moment to appreciate the feeling of Flint’s thumb, gently swiping at the corner of his mouth. Before he knew it, there was a clothed napkin handed to him, and he managed to quickly wipe his face and Flint’s crotch, before his head poked out from underneath the table, and Flint made a sign that it was okay for him to come up.

The look on Flint’s face was one of absolute bliss. Completely wrecked, he tugged himself back in his pants with a hiss, sensitive as he was, and once he was presentable, grabbed Silver by the collar to give him a heated kiss.

It did nothing to help the unfairly yet-to-be-attended situation in his own pants.

"Wait ‘till we get home," Flint said, "And I’ll ride you _so_ hard. I swear on it."

Silver nodded, biting the bottom lip of his smile.

Flint never made promises he couldn’t keep.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, feedback/comments and kudos are always reallyyyy freaking appreciated. If you did enjoy this, I hope you'll spare the minute to leave some :)
> 
> Find me on tumblr @backsails! And thank you lots for reading


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